Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
by tati1
Summary: Harry goes for his fifth year after a horrible summer, but his powers are changing; what is with Draco Malfoy? Some inappropriate details. Not for younger kiddies, but probably one of my safest. Not slash. ABANDONED
1. Default Chapter

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix 

****

**Chapter One**

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The signs of his power will show until the time of truth comes.

**- Order of the Phoenix, Phoenix Chronicles, Part IV**

Harry Potter gazed out his window and sighed.  He was exhausted, but staying awake was better than facing his dreams.  They were nightmares.  Nightmares where he watched Cedric die and Voldemort rise.  Nightmares where he faced Cedric and tried to apologize, but Cedric just turned away in disgust.  Without his friends nearby, his fears and guilt consumed him unhindered.  The fact that the Dursley's were worse this summer didn't help matters.  His nightmares didn't always sprout from the Third Task.  He had nightmares of what had occurred his first night back for the summer and several times afterwards.

*Flashback*

Harry got off the train, having given his gift to Fred and George.  After saying his goodbyes and being profusely thanked by the twins, he was forced to wait for his Uncle Vernon.

Ron left, as did Hermione.  Soon, the station was empty of any students, and night fell on a very worried Harry.  Finally, at nine o'clock, Uncle Vernon drove up in last year's car.  Harry blinked; Uncle Vernon usually got a new car every year.  But he brushed it off, too happy over the fact that he wasn't abandoned to care.

By the end of the night, he would wish that he truly _had_ been abandoned.

Uncle Vernon staggered out of the car.  "Get in… you…" he muttered thickly.  Harry stared in shock; was he _drunk?! _ "I said, get IN!" he growled.

Before Harry could move, Uncle Vernon seized Harry (who was holding Hedwig) by the scruff of the neck and threw him into the car.  He then tossed Harry's trunk on top of him – suffocating Harry incidentally – slammed the door, and got back into the driver's seat.  Harry lay gasping for breath, unable to remove the trunk's weight, until they reached home.  Uncle Vernon practically tore open the front door and pulled Harry out by his hair and into the house.  Hedwig was forgotten in the car with his trunk.  Once they were inside, Uncle Vernon threw Harry into the living room.

"What's wrong?" gasped Harry, still in shock at this odd behavior, "what did I _do?_"

"DO?" thundered Uncle Vernon, "You and your kind killed Marge!  You cursed my business, and YOU are why Dudley was expelled!  I'm going to kill you!"

Harry gazed numbly up at him.  Marge was dead?  The Death Eaters had probably attacked her village.  But as for the rest of it…

"I'm not allowed to curse Muggles, you know that."  Uncle Vernon just bellowed more insults before kicking Harry in the gut.  "GET UP!" he roared.  Unfortunately, Harry was unable to oblige due to his sudden loss of oxygen.  "I SAID GET UP!" Uncle Vernon bent down, seized Harry by the collar, and began pummeling the boy mercilessly.  Of course, it was nothing when compared to the Cruciatus, but it still hurt.  By the time his uncle sat back, panting, Harry was bleeding and bruised all over.  He also had a slight concussion from a lamp (table lamp, luckily) to the head.

When Aunt Petunia came down to clean the next morning, she found Harry on the floor, unconscious and bloody, and shoved him with the toe of her shoe into wakefulness.  He moaned.  Entirely unsympathetic, Aunt Petunia shrieked, "Get up and clean this mess!  Then you can do the back garden.  I don't want the neighbors to even smell you this summer!  Get up, you ungrateful, lazy little…"

And that was how his summer went.

*End Flashback*

Harry sighed again.  He now bore even more scars from his relation's rough treatment.

Dudley, formerly terrified of Harry and bigger than ever from the diet being revoked, had pushed him down the stairs two weeks into summer.  Aunt Petunia just worked him till he dropped, slapped him, and screeched over how worthless he was.  She was actually stunned into silence when she found him nodding in agreement with her once.

Harry now had a broken hand and a broken ankle.  Several of his ribs were broken, bruises sprouted everywhere, he sported numerous cuts and a few burns, sprained a wrist, was starving, and suffered from insomnia.  He felt like crap with a capital C.

He had written to his friends, but didn't relate what was occurring – he hadn't ever told them before, so why start now?  Instead, he made up funny stories about a scared Vernon and a subdued Petunia and Dudley.  He didn't want to tell them the truth – that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived was beaten and treated like the Malfoy's house-elf.

Yesterday had been his birthday, and the day Vernon broke his hand.

The gifts from his friends were enough to cheer him up a bit; especially with the added news that Sirius was safe somewhere.

The presents were great.  Ron gave him a new watch, which was similar to the clock in the Weasely's house, only this one told where Ron and Hermione were at all times, and he could add a name at will.  In his card, Ron said he had had one made for himself and would give another to Hermione on her birthday.  Sirius had sent him a book on Animagus's of the past, and Hermione had Hedwig deliver him a book on great Quidditch teams of the 20th century.  Unfortunately, Hagrid had owled him earlier in the summer that he needed to keep mail silence, and would give him his gifts when Harry returned to Hogwarts.  Despite the lack of food, Harry had actually slept well that night.

He checked the clock.  It was nearly midnight, and Vernon still wasn't home.  Harry figured he could try to sleep – he really did need the rest, he' d practiced Quidditch under the Invisibility Cloak from ten to twelve each night that summer – Uncle Vernon was probably working late anyway.  Harry climbed into bed and dreamt of yesterday – his birthday.

*Dream Sequence*

Harry was ten minutes late with the Dursley's breakfast because he had such a rough time with his newly broken ankle; which was not in a cast.

"BOY!  Get in here NOW!" roared Vernon's voice.  Harry winced – he'd tripped and hit his ankle against the wall (the ankle was courtesy of Dudley and a very hard wooden chair) – and replied hurriedly.

"Sorry, sorry, I'll be there in a minute."

"Well hurry it up then," snapped Petunia.  Dudley started whining.

"Mum, I want a doughnut; make Harry get me one."  All summer Harry's porky cousin had been thinking up stupid and utterly pointless things for him to do, and food was usually involved.  The Dursley's were paying extra for a special tailor to fit things to Dudley's huge frame, and he took advantage of it to the fullest.

"Where are you?" Vernon grumped again.  "Can't even come downstairs at a decent time, boy?  You are so lazy.  Must've learned it from those filthy excuses for people you associate with…" his voice slurred slightly, and Harry realized Vernon was drunk this morning.  He took a deep breath and hopped into the kitchen.  He quickly made breakfast and fetched the fore-mentioned doughnut, but soon discovered a dilemma.  He couldn't hop with food in his hands.  Dudley, in a spurt of brilliance, also spotted this, and grinned cruelly.

"C'mon Harry, bring us breakfast already."  Harry tried to slide along the counter, but Dudley's comment attracted Vernon's attention, and he snapped, "Can't you even _walk _like a normal person?" and Harry flinched from the alcohol-induced glare in his eyes.  Firmly grasping the two plates, he took a tentative step on his bad foot.

Concentrating furiously past the tears of pain that ran down his face, Harry ignored Dudley's expression of obvious delight and managed the first trip.

But he had no sooner begun the second when Dudley's foot kicked his hip hard.  Unbalanced, his leg collapsed as both he and the food crashed to the floor.

"BOY!" roared Vernon.  Jumping up, his uncle, stamped Harry's hand into the glass shards, breaking the bones instantly.  He seized Dudley's old Smelting stick and advanced on the terrified boy…

*End Dream Sequence*

"BOY!"

Harry moaned at the remembrance – or was it?  He heard the front door slam and Vernon thunder in.  Harry cursed, and shoved Hedwig outside.  He refused to allow her to be present during the beatings because he was scared Vernon would kill her.  Hedwig screeched from outside as he locked the window.  She stayed to watch, indignant at being shoved, and confused with Harry's recent behavior.

Vernon reached the top of the stairs and stumbled over to Harry's room.  He shoved open the door and stood glaring malevolently at the boy.

"You ruined Grunnings!  D'you know what I've just heard?  That if our ratings don't improve in 3 months we'll have to shut down!  And it's ALL YOUR FAULT!" he leaped at Harry, dragged the frozen boy to the floor, and began pummeling him.

***

Hedwig's big eyes widened even further in astonishment and outrage.  He was beating her master!  She began pecking at the window, but fortunately for her Vernon was too occupied with Harry to notice.

***

None of the other beatings had ever been as bad as this.  Harry groaned on the floor, already suffering another concussion from being beaten with his bedroom's stand lamp.  Vernon was gone.  Harry began to try to dizzily rise when Vernon suddenly reappeared in the doorway, smiling.  But there was only one thing Harry had eyes for.

The knife in Vernon's hand.

Weakly, Harry began to crawl backwards, shaking his head at Vernon and fixing his gaze on the knife, wishing desperately he had never stuck his wand in his trunk after getting off the train.  Vernon had taken full advantage of that weakness and locked Harry's things in the cupboard before nailing the door shut.  Now Harry was wandless and at the mercy of an angry maniac.

***

Vernon stepped in softly.  He knew what he was going to do.  He was going to kill the boy after he suffered as much as Vernon and his family had.

The boy was backing away.  Vernon felt a weird mix of glee and fury as he advanced, grabbed the boy by the arm, hauled him up, and put the knife to Harry's throat.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

There shall be an age of Darkness.  But when Dark strikes at half the Light, He shall be driven away.  And Light shall be praised and cursed in the years before the Battle.

**- Order of the Phoenix, Phoenix Chronicles, Part I**

'Oh God, I'm gonna die.  He's really going to kill me!' Harry thought; panicking.  He tried to pull away, body screaming in protest, but Vernon held tight, and the blood in his arm barely circulated.  Harry's uncle then raised the knife and cut, almost delicately, across Harry's scar, causing it to look new-made.  Harry flinched, and then screamed as Vernon slowly began to gauge a hole in Harry's arm.  It was the first sound he had uttered through the entire beating.  Harry squirmed and writhed to no avail.  His free hand was no good because it was broken, and his blows would have been weak from almost two months of little or no food and insomnia.  He finally collapsed, creating a new gash up his shoulder.  Vernon scowled, slapped him hard across the face, and tore a gash down Harry's good leg.

As he grabbed the wilting teen's hand to cut off the fingers, a loud BANG! erupted from downstairs.  Vernon frowned in confusion before pulling Harry up by the hair.  Grabbing up a noose Dudley had used to strangle Harry, he hung it from the ceiling and shoved Harry's head into it.  He released Harry and left the room.

Drained, Harry hung limply, lost in his pain and all alone.  He didn't bother to struggle as his air was closed out.

Darkness consumed him.

***

When Hedwig saw the knife, she knew there was trouble.  Panicking, the bird flew to the person nearest the house.  For the moment, this was Sirius Black, accused murderer and godfather to Harry.

***

Ten blocks away from Number Four Privet Drive, Sirius was contemplating his godson.  He was on assignment from Dumbledore that would keep him in the area for a few days.  Walking about in his animagus form, he was startled when a terrified owl collided with him.  It took a bit for him to recognize it as Harry's Hedwig, and when he did he grew grim.

Harry was in trouble, and if his bird was this worked up about it, it was something big.  Knowing that the protective wards at Harry's house kept anyone from Apparating there, Sirius Apparated to the Weasley home where the family was sleeping soundly.

When the startled Weasley's appeared downstairs, they found Sirius in a dither, hunting for the Floo Powder.  After the whole Sirius-is-really-innocent-please-don't-kill-him-thing was over, Sirius got to the point of his intrusion.  Molly Weasely immediately rushed to the flowerpot.

"Here it is dear, but first we need to wait for Harry's home to be hooked into the Network-"

"Alright, let's go!" shouted Mr. Weasley as the connection was completed.  No one hesitated as they all seized some powder and roared "The Dursley's!"

***

Needless to say, when they arrived in Harry's blocked fireplace, there was even less room than last time.

Squished closest to the blockage, Charlie muttered, "Reducto!" and blew away the fake fireplace with a loud BANG!  Everyone tumbled into the darkened house and ran to the stairs when Vernon Dursley stamped out to glare down on them.

"What in bloody hell are you doing in my house?" he shouted.

"We have reason to believe something is wrong with Harry," said Arthur hastily, "is he all right?"

"As perfect as he can get, and that's how it's supposed to be, isn't it?" Vernon grinned suddenly.

"Umm, Ron?" Ginny squeaked, tugging his robes.

"What?" asked the latter impatiently.

"Mr. Dursley has blood on his clothes."  Ron looked and gulped when he saw she was correct.

"Umm, Dad?" he squeaked, tugging his robes. (sound familiar yet?)

"What is it, Ron?" asked his father absently.

"Mr. Dursley's got blood on his clothes."  Mr. Weasley jumped and asked Vernon worriedly, "Why is there blood on your clothes?"

Vernon's face grew red with anger as he shouted, "Get yourselves and all your sorry asses out of my bloody house!  GET OUT!"

"What's wrong with Harry?" asked Sirius menacingly, advancing on his godson's guardian.

"Nothing is bloody wrong with the freak.  In fact, he's probably in the very best condition I can make hi-"

"What's going on, Vernon?" asked Petunia's voice from behind him.  "Have you been drinking again?  Dudley's gone off to get Harry to fetch you something for that hangover you'll have.  Perhaps he won't mess it up this time, and have breakfast-" her voice cut off abruptly as she peered over his shoulder.  "Are there actually people down there?  What type of freak would be here at this time of-" she stopped again as she saw Sirius and wand-carrying nightmares.

"Sirius Black!  Freaks!  Out!  GET OUT OF MY HOME IMMEDIALTELY!"

"Not until we see Harry," Sirius growled grimly.

Dudley appeared behind his father, but didn't see the uninvited wizards.

"Mum, he won't wake up.  I cut him down and shook him, but he wouldn't even look at me.  I even tried kicking, and you know how well that-"

"YOU KICKED HARRY POTTER?" came nine shocked voices.

"That's practically sacrilege!" added Percy.

"Stupefy!" snarled Sirius, and Bill and Charlie followed suit, stunning the Dursley family where they stood before rushing upstairs.  They found the Master Bedroom empty, but Fred and George led them to Harry's room at the far end of the hall.

The door was open, and the group collectively stopped in shock.  Harry was lying on the floor, and didn't appear to be breathing.  Blood flowed freely in several places, and his hand was twisted at a weird angle.  A few things were turned over or bloodstained from Vernon's rage, and Mr. Weasley quickly hurried out to contact Dumbledore.

A stretcher was conjured, Sirius transformed, and all hurried out of the house.  Mr. Weasley caught up to them.

"Dumbledore says to Apparate straight to St. Mungo's since they aren't on the Floo Network.  He'd prefer Hogwarts, but Harry might be dead before we get there, so he'll meet us in a few minutes." They crossed the last of the wards.

"Now you younger people, grab someone who can Apparate so we can take you too," instructed Bill, sounding like a lecturer 80 years old.

Soon, everyone reappeared in front of St. Mungo's and levitated Harry in as a nurse rushed over.

No one noticed that two of their number were missing.

***

Ginny looked around, puzzled, before looking up at her mother in shock.

"Mum!  The _Maternity Ward?_"  Mrs. Weasley blushed.

"I suppose I was thinking of babies and how helpless they are, just like Harry is now, and-" she was explaining when a nurse walked by and gasped in recognition.

"Mrs. Weasley!  You're not pregnant _again_, are you?" she asked, sounding half scandalized and amused, and half resigned.  "Just wait right there; I'll go get Dr. Wendinsbouro," she called over her shoulder as she left at a dead run.

A few seconds later she was back, panting, with a doctor in tow.  He immediately began to scold Mrs. Weasley.

"Really Molly!  You're getting too old for this sort of thing you know!  Why in fact, I do believe-" Mrs. Weasley interrupted hurriedly.

"Wait, sir.  I am NOT pregnant.  I just Apparated to the wrong room in the hospital, that is all.  Sorry, must be going!" and she ran off, dragging along a giggling Ginny and panting from her rapid speech.

Meanwhile…

A nurse bent over him and backed away in shock.

"Is that _Harry Potter?!"_ she screeched.  "What _happened?"_  All the people in the waiting room swiveled their heads around in startled interest, and at least ten doctors hurried over with a lucky news reporter, who had expected her day to be dull.

"He needs medical attention; not people gawking over him," growled the twins protectively.  Ron looked at them in surprise – _he_ had been about to say that.

"Um, oh! Right you are, lads," said a doctor, and began to wheel him down the hall.  Another nurse followed with a tablet, and began scribbling information while muttering to herself.

"Name…Harry Potter, age…umm, how old is he?"

"Fifteen yesterday," muttered George.

"Fifteen…height, about 5'4"…weight…how much?"

"I dunno.  A lot less then when I last saw him," muttered Ron anxiously, "and that's saying a lot."

"Weight; blank space.  Reason for hospitalization?" she looked at them expectantly.

"Beatings, we believe," responded Mr. Weasley.  They heard a gasp and flurry of scribbles and turned to find a trailing reporter scribbling furiously and looking delighted.

"Oh, no," moaned Ron, "Harry's not going to like this."

"Hey," said Charlie suddenly, "where's Mum?" They stopped and looked about.

"Ginny's missing, too," George commented.  "Maybe they went off somewhere."

Just then, the two females in question appeared down the hall at a dead run.

"How's Harry?" asked Mrs. Weasley when they caught up.

"Same.  Where were you?  And why's Ginny laughing like a maniac?"

"Ooh," she squealed, "just wait till you hear-" Mrs. Weasley interrupted hurriedly.

"I'm sure they don't want to hear about that dear."  That set her off again as they all chased Harry's stretcher.  He was wheeled into a room and they were all halted by a new doctor.

"We can do without distractions; please wait outside.  And get that dog out!  He's not allowed!"  Sirius growled a warning to the pompous doctor, who reached nervously for her wand.

"The dog will stay, or else Harry may be very unhappy upon awakening," came a new voice. The doctor turned in surprise to Dumbledore, who looked worried.

"How is Harry?"

"They just took him in as you got here," replied Mr. Weasley.  Suddenly, there was a BANG, and the first doctor flew out, holding his wand and eyes wide.

Everyone jumped in shock, but Dumbledore strode forward calling. "Harry, it's ok.  You're safe; the doctor wasn't trying to hurt you."  He entered the room.  After nothing else happened, the Weasley's followed with Sirius in the lead.

They found Dumbledore at the head of Harry's hospital stretcher.  The boy was awake and blinking confusedly.  As though responding to something said by Dumbledore, Harry was saying, "-asn't Vernon?  I'm sorry, I thought he was holding a knife," he added sheepishly.

"It's all right, Harry," soothed Dumbledore, "at least you didn't hurt him."

"Hurt me?! Forget hurt me, what did he DO?!!" shouted the overexcited and irate doctor.  "He starts to wake up as I was about to heal him, and next thing I know, I've been blasted through the doors!"  At this, the reporter literally bubbled over in anticipation as Dumbledore sighed.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you at the moment.  Harry has obviously been injured severely, and had a hallucination from starvation and blood loss.  He will not do anything like that again."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, sir.  I didn't hurt you, did I?" piped Harry anxiously.  He looked relieved when the doctor shook his head no.

"Now, if we could get back to business?" asked the doctor with renewed vigor.

"Certainly," replied Dumbledore, and he herded the audience out.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanx to all who reviewed!  This chapter would have been longer, but I hadn't typed it all, and *some* random reviewers couldn't seem to wait (glares and chuckles).  Ahh well, I love these reviews, so here you go! Chapter 3 

He shall have an abnormal partner.  They shall be as two halves of one whole, and both shall represent the Phoenix.

**- Order of the Phoenix, Phoenix Chronicles, Part III**

Harry sighed, and returned his attention – such as it was – to the doctor.

"Now, we'll just mend up those bones," he said, coaching Harry through it and waving his wand with a muttered incantation to bind the bones tight.  Harry felt them begin to knit themselves back together as the doctor fetched a potion and bandages to heal the gashes on his skin.

Three minutes later, bandaged and forced to lie immobile, Harry watched the doctor leave to get food and a sleeping draught.  Within 30 seconds, a familiar-looking cap of red peered around the corner, checked to be sure the coast was clear, and dashed in to greet Harry.

"Ron," acknowledged Harry weakly.  Ron sat and looked at him in surprise.  Harry could understand why.  What with all the bandages, he looked to be far worse off injury-wise then he really was.

"Hullo, Harry," said Ron brightly.  Then he frowned.  "Are you up to talking?  Shouldn't you be like, resting or something?"

"Nah, I've been suffering from insomnia lately; couldn't sleep if I tried.  Doctor's gone to get some food and a sleeping draught."  Harry looked at Ron questioningly, "You'll forgive my asking, but since I was unconscious…what happened?"

"Before we came, I don't know.  But when we got there…" Ron explained while Harry listened quietly, only once interrupting with a "Sirius is _here?!"_  Altogether though, Ron delivered it fairly quickly, and mentioned that Dumbledore had sent for Harry's things, his relations, and Hermione.  When Harry asked why, Ron stared at him incredulously.

"D'you think Dumbledore would leave you with them?!  After what they've _done?_  He sent you there to save you, not kill you.  and as for Hermione, she has the right to know what's been happening to you, and you'll need your friends for the rest of the summer."

"Where'll I stay?" asked Harry curiously.

"My house of course!" laughed Ron.

"Great!  Wait.  Did you say Dumbledore's sent for the Dursley's?  Why?"

"Well, Dumbledore may not be sending you back to the muggles, but he most certainly isn't letting them get away with beating and trying to KILL a wizard!  They'll be put on trial, and suitably punished for abuse.  Especially since you're _Harry Potter_, you know?"

"Oh," said Harry, considering.  "Wait!  How'd he know??"

"D'you seriously think we'd believe that you crashed through a window or something?!  There's _proof,_ Harry, and evidence.  You'll be safer away from them, but they can't be allowed to get away with stuff like that.  Besides, Dudley mentioned his kicking you, remember?" Ron shrugged, "Anyway, why didn't you tell me?" he asked, voice suddenly sharp.  "I'm your friend, remember?  You're supposed to inform me of these things.  Don't you trust me?"

Harry glowered at him.  "Of course I trust you, but I don't like saying I need help, and Vernon was looking over my shoulder the whole time, anyway.  I got double punishment when he found out the way I write, you know.  And then, everyone always looks out for and worries after the great _Harry Potter_," his voice became savage, and was laced with fury and self-hatred.  "All I ever do is get people hurt or killed, and this episode just shows that no one will ever stop worrying over me again.  I thought I could handle it; deal with it." _'And finally get the punishment I deserve for hurting others'_ he added mentally.  "But now none of them or you will EVER trust my judgment.  I want to live without people forever looking over my shoulder." He gave a bitter laugh. "Not like that's going to stop now."  Ron sat silent.  He hadn't known that fame affected Harry so badly.  He really hated being famous.  Ron had never really believed that until now, when he heard Harry's bitterness and pain echoing across the years.

For the sake of his friend, Ron changed the subject. "Anyway, what I've really been wanting to ask is how you blasted that physician.  You didn't even have a wand with you!  Wizards are supposed to outgrow accidental magic when they begin formal training, and the only exceptions ever were Merlin, Dumbledore, and You-Know-Who."

"I dunno what happened, but it's occurred before.  You know, when I blew up Aunt Marge?"

"You did that _wandless?_  You never said that!" Ron accused.

"I didn't know it was odd.  I figured you realized that," said Harry defensively.  "I mean, I had already told you they locked my stuff in the cupboard.  That _did_ happen to include my wand," he added dryly.

"Well, I figured they wouldn't take your wand away too.  I mean; you're a wizard, and-"

"And that's precisely the reason," Harry broke in.  "They hate wizards, and prefer for all signs of my-my _strangeness_ to disappear."  Ron looked shell-shocked.  Harry was treated abnormal everywhere he went, not just school.  No wonder he was so upset, what with family like that.

The door opened, and two identical red heads popped in curiously.  Seeing Harry awake, they grinned.

"Hiya, Harry!  Feeling any better?" asked Fred amiably.

"They've been forever cheerful since some idiot granted a thousand – a thousand! – Galleons toward their joke shop.  And for some reason they gave me new, and nicer, dress robes.  I still can't figure out why they aren't bewitched," Ron whispered to Harry, who grinned, and winced as a cut re-opened.

"How're you two doing?" he asked.  The twins beamed.

"Business is booming; we're thinking of branching out of Diagon Alley to Ireland or France," grinned George.

"Just wait till you see what we've invented! You'll love them.  One is even dedicated to you," added Fred.

"Really?" asked Harry guardedly.

"Really! They're called 'Snitch Snatchers.' They come in the form of a snitch, but you can turn them into any small object.  And if someone touches it… Snatch! It sprouts wings and grabs them!" George cackled.  Harry grinned apprehensively – he'd have to be careful about what he touched from now on – and threw in a new idea.

"Have you seen Sirius about pranks?  He was Padfoot you know."

"Sirius Black is Padfoot?! THE Padfoot?! Wow! We'll go ask him right now!" and off they bubbled to hound Sirius for more ideas and tricks.

As soon as they left, Mrs. Weasely entered.

"Hello Harry," she said kindly, "feeling any better?"

"Yes," said Harry tiredly, wondering how many more times he'd have to answer that.

The doctor returned, holding a large tray of food and a sleeping draught.

"Mrs. Weasely, will you see that Harry eats and then takes the draught?" he said distractedly.  "We've had another attack, and they need doctors."

"Certainly," replied Mrs. Weasely, taking the tray from him and placing it in Harry's lap.  The doctor left quickly.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N:  Thanks to all who reviewed.  It really means a lot to me.  I have to apologize for misspelling WEASLEY, so oops!  I keep messing up names.

WARNING:  This story is R for a REASON!  It is NOT NC-17, as I have read much, /much/ worse that was permitted, so I have abused nothing!  Rated for violence, serious angst (later on), and perhaps rape (I'm thinking on it).  If you have a problem with it, go read something else because I didn't write it just to be safe.  It's written because it's how and what I write.  So buzz off. :{

(and if my mean attitude offended, I do apologize but I'm sorta protective of my work.)

Standard Disclaimer:  I own nothing remotely similar to Harry Potter other than my plot, my own characters, and, of course, my copies of the books.

Now, On With the Fic!

Chapter 4 

For jointly and singly they shall be of great power, and use even the greatest of magics without a wand or incantation.

**- Order of the Phoenix, Phoenix Chronicles, Part I**

********

_Last Time:_

"Mrs. Weasley, will you see that Harry eats and then takes the draught?" he said distractedly.  "We've had another attack, and they need doctors."

"Certainly," replied Mrs. Weasley, taking the tray from him and placing it in Harry's lap.  The doctor left quickly.

********

As Harry couldn't yet feed himself (the gash and wrist hadn't healed yet), Mrs. Weasley did it for him, much to the boy's discomfort.  He then took his sleeping draught after only pecking at the food, saying it made him feel ill, and was rapidly engulfed by his first good sleep in over a month.

()()()()()()()()

When he woke up, Hermione was sitting with Ginny next to his bed, both girls doing homework and whispering happily together.  Harry grinned sleepily and sat up.  As he did so, he noticed that the casts and over half the other bandages were missing from his person.  Odd that, but not too much so.  He always had healed fast.

Ginny looked up first and jumped with a squeal.

"He's awake!" Hermione turned and smiled at him in a concerned manner.

"Hi Hermione," yawned Harry, "Lo, Ginny."

Dumbledore chose that moment to enter (no doubt drawn by Ginny's yell).

"Are you strong enough to be moved to the Burrow, Harry?" he asked, blue eyes twinkling gently.

"Prob'ly.  I'm a little hungry though," Harry admitted as his stomach growled.

"I'm not surprised; you've been starved," Dumbledore murmured, studying the youth's emaciated appearance with unmistakable anger in his eyes and voice.

"Well, we'll soon fix that," clucked Mrs. Weasley from the doorway.  "Girls, get ready, we'll be leaving shortly."  And she walked off.  Hermione and Ginny trailed in her wake to prepare for departure.

"Before you leave, I'd like to speak with you, Harry," suggested Dumbledore gently.  "How long have the Dursleys beaten you?"

Harry pondered the question.  "Ever since I was little, but it was worse this year because of the Ton-Tongue Toffee incident."

"How were you beaten, Harry?"

"Why all the questions?" asked Harry abruptly.  He didn't want to talk about it.  Wasn't Dumbledore's business anyway.

"I'm gathering testimonies.  I even have some pictures of you from last night.  Now, please, continue."

"Okaaay," sighed Harry doubtfully.  "It always used to be by a cane or a belt, but this year it has been mostly physical.  Vernon jumped on may hand for instance; shattering the bones.  Dudley made me walk on my broken ankle, which was delivered by Vernon, and Petunia slaps me.  Last night was the first time he used a knife though."

"And what did he do with the knife?"  Dumbledore's gaze was steady on Harry's face.  He looked back calmly.

"He cut my scar open.  He gashed my arm and shoulder.  Tore my leg up.  What did you expect?  It was punishment for being 'bad.'"

"Did you deserve it?"

"In reality, no.  I didn't do what he accused me of."

Dumbledore wondered absently what the boy meant by 'in reality'.  Did it mean he thought of the beatings as his due?  Nonsense, he told himself firmly, This is Harry we are talking about.  He dismissed the thought.  If he only knew how right he was………

()()()()()()()()()

Leaving St. Mungo's was………difficult………to say the least.  Everyone wanted a look at Harry, and the poor boy was hounded by at least twelve reporters who had appeared as soon as the news broke of his being hospitalized.

"Why were you admitted?"

"Are the rumors true that you were abused at home?"

"Did your pet donkey step on you?" (Hermione shot the man an incredulous look.)

"Is that your dog?"

"Will you ever walk again?"

"Mr. Potter, may I have your autograph?"

"Mr. Potter, is it true you were attacked by You-Know-Who and destroyed him once and for all?"

"Do you support the Dark Arts?"

The questions poured in and all Harry could do was try and ignore it as he was wheeled out.  He hadn't wanted a wheelchair, but his legs and ankle were still too weak to support him.  Snuffles followed closely; growling at anyone who came too near.

When it came time to Disapparate, Snuffles turned around to look at Harry, whose hand had been tightly clenched in his fur since he'd arrived.  Satisfied that Harry wouldn't keel over suddenly, and angry at his Godson's treatment, he turned to Mr. Weasley who Apparated boy and dog to the Burrow.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Next day saw Harry slightly better.  It also delivered copies of The Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly.  Harry moaned when Ron and Hermione showed him the articles.  He had made both front and second page.  The first was horrible, getting nearly everything wrong except that Harry was in the Hospital and didn't state any facts; just rumors.  The second was a bit more accurate; being that it revealed he had been abused by his relations; yet it still gave details that were entirely untrue and instead based on the journalist's own wishes and beliefs.  Harry just wished the world would leave him in peace.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Over the remainder of the holidays, Harry recovered well, surrounded by friends and Mrs. Weasley (laugh all you like; she's a veritable _army_).  For once, he managed to complete his summer homework before the term began, and managed to ignore Hermione and Ron's squeals over being made Prefects.  He flew whenever he was not occupied with homework and the twins looked after him and assisted him with studying extra material for Potions.  Oddly enough, the demonic troublemakers of the Weasley line had taken a rather paternal air about Harry, and were ecstatic when he requested their assistance.  Harry quickly discovered that he was actually capable of Potion-making without a fire-breathing teacher hovering behind him menacingly.

Even with extra study time and a wonderful, homey atmosphere, Harry's nightmares continued.  He kept quiet about them though; muffling his screams and shivering himself to sleep in a lonely, never-ending vigil.  His visions increased, and he wrote to Dumbledore regularly.  A letter from the elderly wizard brought surprising news:

Harry,

It appears these visions are of the future, as they tend to occur _after_ you have written of them to me.  Several still have not happened, and as it is of the future, they may never occur.  I believe there may be a way to control these visions so you may have them deliberately and on whatever subject you focus upon.  We shall see, but until then, please continue to write of what-may-be so that my group can try to save the lives you see demolished.  The Dursleys have been arrested, but the trial date is not yet set.  The Minister has been interfering again, so until their punishment is assured,

Be careful,

Albus Dumbledore

So it was with new worries and many cautions that Harry and his friends boarded the Hogwarts Express that September 1st and marched off in search of an empty compartment.

~

A/N: I am SO SORRY this took so long, but I've been having computer problems and I'm signed up for so many summer activities that I am totally lost and scatterbrained.  I edited all my chapters of all my stories, but I don't know if it made too big a difference.  Thank you for your patience!


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